Epic
by TruelyAlive
Summary: Draco Malfoy's sixth year at Hogwarts, and his life following. Rated for possible later chapters, DracoPansy pairing.


**Epic – Chapter One – Apres Moi**

Disclaimer – I am not making any profit from this, I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters, places, yadda yadda.

AN – Hi there! I'm Nikky, and I'll be your author. I'm first going to warn you, I am TERRIBLE at finishing stories. I start out gung-ho, and never finish. Prod me if it's worth it, and I'll try really hard to finish it. On with it then, this is my Draco epic, featuring Pansy Parkinson. Chapter one owes its title to Apres Moi, by Regina Spektor. Why? Mostly the "I'm not my own, It's not my choice" line. I kinda just feel like naming each chapter after a song, since I can never come up with the names. Perhaps I will. Anyway, on with it.

* * *

Draco Malfoy rarely showed any sort of emotion beyond anger, or smugness, sometimes even jealousy. Alone in his room now, his hands were visibly shaking in perhaps one of the only times he had shown that particular emotion. Fear. Draco Malfoy was terrified. His eyes were bloodshot, but dry, though the effort of keeping them so had caused a terrible ache in the young boy's throat. He could hear his mother down the hall, crying and tossing things about, hysterical. Shutting his eyes, he fumbled with the latch on his trunk, his hands making opening the blasted thing quite difficult. Usually, a house elf would have handled packing for him, but he'd needed something to occupy himself, and as such had sent the little elf away.

Tossing his schoolbooks into the bottom of the empty trunk, he paused, and toyed with the cover of one of them. How long would they actually be needed? How long would he be able to stay in that school? Biting the inside of his cheek, he slammed the final book into the trunk, before glancing in the mirror hanging on his wall. He took in his disheveled appearance, glaring into his own face.

"Suck it up, Malfoy," he spat at himself. This was what he'd been waiting for. He could prove himself to everyone. Show that idiot headmaster than the Dark Lord wasn't afraid of ANYTHING. Show Saint Potter and his mudblood, blood-traitor friends exactly who they'd crossed. Show his father that he wasn't weak, or useless. Worthy of the Malfoy name, more than worthy. Beyond it, better than his name. Oh yes, Draco Malfoy would show them all. He'd become Voldemort's most faithful servant, the greatest Death Eater. And everyone would respect him, look up to _him. _He'd always been a prince in his own right, but now…now he'd be so much more.

With a new-found (albeit naïve, and even he knew this a little) confidence, he shouted for the house elf, demanding that the 'lazy, worthless thing' pack his things. He'd be returning to school tomorrow, setting things in motion.

Leaving his room, Draco followed the sound of his mother's cries into the bedroom she had once shared with his father. Before that _Potter _had gotten him sent away. Cracking the door, his gaze fell on his mother. The beautiful, stately woman was crumpled against the bed, blanket covering her face. Her dresser had been trashed, jewelry and grooming objects thrown about, her mirror shattered. His aunt was sitting silently in a corner chair, looking calmly at her sister. Draco felt a pang of guilt, but he smothered it quickly and set a determined expression to his face.

"Mother," he said, kneeling beside her. "Mother, stop being so…hysterical. Everything will be fine. I'm going to fix it all."

His mother looked at him, saying nothing. His aunt, however, spoke up. "You see, Cissy? Even dear Draco realizes what an honor this is. He's not going to fail us, this whole episode you've been putting on, it's really unnecessary."

"You don't have a child, Bellatrix!" Narcissa snapped, suddenly animated. She stood, waving her hand at her sister as she spoke. Turning on Draco, she pointed to her door. "Goodnight, Draco. We'll be leaving early tomorrow. You need your sleep." The last part was said firmly, in a hushed tone and she smiled at her son. A sad, strained smile, as if it were painful. She wrapped her arms around him, to which he rolled his eyes, and ushered him out of the room. "Goodnight, darling. Sleep well." Her tone was calm, as serene as it ever was, if not slightly more hurried, it didn't match her face at all. She watched Draco until he disappeared into him room again, then spun on her heel and walked into her own room.

"Bellatrix, we're leaving," she whispered fiercely, grabbing her cloak from a silver hook on the wall. Bellatrix looked surprised, and mildly exasperated, but stood to follow her sister.

In his room once more, Draco took his now-packed trunk and shoved it into the corner of the door. His eyes met his reflection again, and it took him several moments to push away the dread filling his stomach. Climbing into the large four-poster bed, he slipped under the covers, and fell into a light, restless sleep.

* * *

Platform 9 ¾ was as packed as usual, full of smug-looking seventh years, and a load of terrified first years, and everything in between. The house elves carrying Draco's trunk were nearly trampled more than once before they managed to get the giant thing safely onto the train. Draco had exited the train to give his tearful mother one last hug before leaving, trying his best to maintain some sort of dignity as she sniffled.

"Be careful, darling. Please, please watch out for yourself. Don't do anything reckless, and do talk to Severus," she was whispering into his ear, the same speech she'd been giving him all morning. He nodded into her shoulder, and pushed away from the bleary-eyed woman, giving her a radiant smile.

"Please, mother. I'm more than capable." He drawled, sounding bored. Without another word, he turned from his mother and started for the train.

"Draco!" Came a feminine voice, and shortly after he was face to face with Pansy Parkinson. She was leaning out the train door, one foot on the ground, the other atop the first step. Smirking happily at him, Pansy extended her hand in a demure greeting, which he quickly clasped and let go. Pansy waved over his shoulder to his mother, though he pushed past the girl without looking back.

With Pansy following behind him, Draco went straight to their usual compartment, and found it already filled with several younger students. "And what, exactly, made you think it was alright to sit in my seat?" He asked, looking annoyed. Two of the students made a funny kind of squeak and left immediately, rushing past an amused Pansy. The third, a large, burly boy with buzz-cut hair, stood and raised a brow.

"Who says it's yours?" He asked, in a much younger voice than Draco would have anticipated. Rolling his eyes, Draco fingered the wand in his pocket. Pansy greeted someone behind him, and he afforded a quick glance, before grinning at the younger student.

"I do," he said simply, and stepped to the side. "Goyle, find my friend here a new compartment, will you?" He turned his head to look at Goyle, who promptly placed his trunk in an overhead rack, lifted the boy clear off the ground by the back of his shirt, and walked away with him down the corridor.

"Much better," Pansy sighed, allowing Crabbe to lift her own trunk onto the rack. She sat gracefully down in the seat nearest the window, gesturing for Draco to sit next to her. He complied, and she sat back, crossing one leg over the other. "I didn't hear from you very much this summer," she said, tipping her head at him. "Is everything alright?" She was speaking about his father, and he nodded in response, looking serious for only a second.

"Fine…Very well, actually. Do you mind, Pans?" He asked, glancing at the door as Goyle returned with a lopsided smirk on his face, before leaning over and getting comfortable on Pansy's lap before hearing her reply. Of course she wouldn't. Pansy raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth to speak, but was cut off as Blaise Zabini entered the compartment. Their eyes were on him as he fussed with the door, and Draco's eyes flicked to the luggage rack…was something there? Staring for a moment, it was pushed to the back of his mind as he continued their conversation, lazing in Pansy's lap.

* * *

Arriving at school never held the same pleasant feeling for the Slytherin group as it did for Harry. No, they were accustomed to large, elegant manors with giant bedrooms, which they shared with no one, of course. So, it wasn't a common room full of happy smiles and excited giggling. Instead, there were wrinkled noses and bored sighs among tales of summer gatherings and the newest rumors.

Pansy had already sought out Daphne Greengrass, and the two were giggling together, sitting cross-legged on one of the long sofas near the fireplace. Daphne was talking animatedly about some older boy she'd met over the summer –_ "He was so cute, Pans! And very…skilled." _–And Pansy had leaned in close to catch all the details.

Draco, meanwhile, was sitting across the room, at a table with Blaise. The dark-skinned boy had waved off at least six girls during their conversation, and Draco was thoroughly amused, if not slightly agitated. He glanced up at Pansy, and met eyes with both her and Daphne, after which both girls looked at each other and giggled about something. He wondered for a moment if Pansy would be any help…he'd already planned out several ways in which to accomplish his… task. She'd be loads more intelligent than Crabbe or Goyle, but a loud bout of snickering from her direction changed his mind. Pansy had a big mouth, and he couldn't afford the risk. That same nervous cold swept through him as he thought of the year ahead, and he pursed his lips in annoyance.

"Excuse me, Zabini." He said, cutting off whatever Blaise had been saying about Tracey Davis. He'd caught his name from Daphne, and in an attempt to push away the knawing in his chest, he casually stepped over to their couch, sitting smugly on the end of it. "Did you need me, Daphne?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. He grinned at their suddenly-pink cheeks, but Pansy spoke up.

"Don't be so vain, maybe she wasn't even talking about you," she said, clearly joking. Draco allowed a light laugh, shaking his head.

"Please, Parkinson. You know as well as I do that every girl in this common room has her thoughts on me. Maybe Blaise…for a moment. But once they head to their dorms," here, he gestured an upturned palm to the archway that led to the girls dormitories; "it's me they'll all be moaning for."

Pansy threw a small pillow at him. "You are sick, do you know that?" She demanded, watching him catch the pillow easily. He was grinning at her, and he slid down the arm of the couch to cram himself beside her as she turned her body to face him.

"It's okay, Pans," he said, sounding genuinely sympathetic. "You're the only one worth my heart." He placed a sarcastic pout on his face, his hand resting dramatically over his chest. She groaned, heaving a sigh as she rose from the couch, blushing more than she cared to take note of.

"Get a grip, Malfoy," she said, turning on her heel and stalking to her dorm.

"She's got it so bad." He crooned, winking at an amused Daphne before he, too, made his way to bed, his mind off of anything else for the time being.

Closing note: Review if you like it, let me know why if you don't. I kind of lost a muse halfway through, so I'm debating re-writing it. We'll see.


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